


Road to Acceptance

by shotgunsandangelwings



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Acceptance, Betrayal, Blackwatch, Blackwatch Era, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Forgiveness, Gen, Genji Shimada Centric, Jesse McCree & Genji Shimada Are Best Friends, Pre-Canon, Pre-Fall of Overwatch, Revenge, Self-Acceptance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-18
Updated: 2017-08-18
Packaged: 2018-12-16 20:40:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11836656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shotgunsandangelwings/pseuds/shotgunsandangelwings
Summary: Genji Shimada was betrayed by the brother that he trusted and was left for dead, only to survive. In the 10 years leading up to their next meeting, Genji finds that revenge may not be the answer he seeks, but acceptance with the help of those around him may make reconciling with his newfound self that much easier.





	Road to Acceptance

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, so this is my first Overwatch fic and this has been on my mind for a while now. I have related with Genji's path for so long that it kind of has ties to my own healing process. I'm mainly writing this to help myself learn acceptance and forgiveness but I wouldn't mind having others along for the ride. With so little content they give us we kind of have to take these things into our own hands right? Well, I hope you enjoy and I hope I can do this story and topic justice, for both mine and Genji's sake.

                When he came to, there was only one sensation on his mind. The overwhelming, blinding pain engulfing his whole body. He tried to scream out, to make some form of verbal acknowledgement that he was still alive. However, if anything came out it was lost due to the ringing announcing the agony he was in.

                Genji attempted to open his eyes though all he could do was keep them blurred or else the feeling of fire on his skin would destroy his vision as well.

                He was inside Shimada castle, but it looked wrong. The stain of red from the sunset outside wasn’t to blame. No, it was the pool of red beneath him. Beneath, on the walls, on the tapestry, covering the sword that lay next to his mangled body. Seeing this made him cry out in despair, only adding to the pain that was threatening to well up from his throat.

                He had been waiting for his brother, Hanzo, so that they may speak. Disdain had followed them both for weeks following the death of their father. Genji had loved his father but the syndicate he had created had not interested him in the slightest. This angered the Elders, Genji knew, though he did not believe they would do anything to hurt him while his father accepted his decision. That changed once the Shimada patriarch had died. Genji believed it was more than a simple death of a sick man that the Elders assured them it was. Nevertheless, this put Hanzo in charge, and the Elders got their puppet.

                Thinking his name caused Genji to stir and scream at the pain that moving had caused him. The mention of his brother who had left him in this state. He was mangled. Nearly a corpse. Every sensation in his body was telling him to give up and die. The drive to live was fuelled by his rage however. Rage of attempting to warn Hanzo of the danger he was in due to the Elders’ influence, only to be attacked from behind by his own brother.

                Genji reached to tenderly feel the wound on his back, the slash of a blade that cut through his body should’ve been enough. However, dragons were stronger than that, and Hanzo knew it. He summoned his dragons upon his own brother and chopped him up and seared his flesh like some piece of worthless meat.

                Another scream. He started to grab for a hold with his good arm. He found he couldn’t feel his other, and he was unsure if his legs were working. Even with all his brother did to end his life, he still survived. _Hanzo isn’t as much a perfectionist as I thought._

                The thought of his name spurred another burst of strength to his arm. He reached and grabbed at the threshold of the castle entrance leading into the garden. Genji looked back wincing at the sight of his mangled body and the trail of blood he left in his wake. He needed help or he was going to die.

                A Shimada could only survive so much. But then he wasn’t exactly a Shimada anymore.

                If any of the castle staff were around, they didn’t come to help him. Most likely they had been told to ignore his dying screams, or pleas for help. None would come to his aid as long as the wrath of the elders was possible.

                The garden was peaceful in the sunset. If the ground weren’t already covered in his blood the dying sun would surely make it seem that way.

                The steps were the hardest part of dragging his limp corpse to the idea of help. He got caught on each one, muffling his yelps of pain before he could alert anyone to what he was attempting. The castle gates were around the corner in the courtyard and he was so close.

                _But who knows I need help? I may as well give up now before horrifying some passerby with my singed corpse as another sign of how you should never cross a Shimada._ His thoughts were turning against him, though he could push those away with the thought of how he would show Hanzo that he should have never crossed him.

                The castle gate was in sight and he was so close.

“ _You thought we would just let you out like that? Your brother may have decided you were done but we know better than to let an insignificant leech like you run away,”_ the elder spoke to him as he stomped on the hand reaching for the exit.

                Genji had been so close and now he was back to yelling at the pain of being kicked right in the wound that the sword had made, and then his jaw.

                The Elder must have believed that to be enough because Genji heard him shuffling back into the castle once again. A sign that he was finished to any poor soul who witnessed his mangled corpse in the gutter.

                No one would save him now that it was final. Not the owners of the ramen shop, or the workers of the arcade he spent his youth in. Not even the foreigners speaking English near him would be able to save a man sentenced to death.

                He was ready to give up.

                The world seemingly had other plans however. He came to, though still somewhat unconscious. Genji heard the hum of a flying craft, the panicked sounds of an English speaker, and- we’re those cowboy spurs?

                The consciousness didn’t last long before he fell under again, too numb from the pain to give a damn what state he was in, or what unfortunate soul got stuck with some dead man on a trip to Japan.

                He didn’t wake again until much later when he abruptly hit what appeared to be solid ground while on some form of a gurney.

                When he opened his eyes again, he was certain he was truly dead. How else could it be that the wings of an angel could be standing before him, a kind smile for his journey to whatever rest in the afterlife.

                And with a kind smile of affirmation, the angel spoke, “I’m right here.” Genji gave a weak smile before falling into what he was sure would be his last sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed this first bit, I'll see how this goes before going forward, but if you'd like to leave a comment I'd love that!


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